The New Life in the Fake Death
by hilarycantdraw
Summary: Set post-Wannabe in the Weeds, some good old B/B angst-y romance! It doesn't follow the show's plot, but it's what I'd have liked to happen!
1. Chapter 1

**Note: This is set after Wannabe in the weeds and has spoilers if you haven't seen that ep. This is my first fanfiction, though I've been reading them for awhile. I know it's an old episode, but I was watching it the other day and felt inspired =). Please feel free to comment I'd love feedback! Also, none of the characters are mine, if they were they'd already be together on TV.**

The day after her partner died Temperance Brennan did not get out of bed. She had never previously understood how anyone could possibly stay in bed all day, how anyone could stand doing nothing for any extended period of time. Then again, she had never believed that it was possible to feel like there was a hole in her stomach while she was obviously completely intact either. Today she couldn't seem to muster the energy she needed to sit up, never mind to do anything else. She really couldn't fathom ever leaving her bed again, but some small voice in her head told her not to be ridiculous. For one day only could she allow herself to mope around, compartmentalize, get her head back on straight. One day.

As she lay in bed watching the sun slowly progress across her room she fought the images from last night that were crawling, unwelcome, into her head. They were all blurry, as though part of a half-forgotten nightmare, but she knew they were completely, cruelly, real. She saw Booth smiling at her while she sang, Booth jumping up only to fall over, a dark red stain spreading across his chest, herself picking up his gun and shooting Pam, her own strident cries begging him to hold on. Then there was holding his hand in the ambulance, being left in the ER as he was whisked away, her friends' comforting hands and arms that she didn't really feel, the doctor telling them there was nothing more to do, sorry. Angela drove her home, offered to stay but Temperance had wanted nothing but to be alone. As soon as Angela left, after one long, meant to be comforting, hug that Brennan barely felt, she had climbed into the shower, throwing her now blood-stained clothes into the trash bin without a second thought, and sat in the hot stream of water until it ran cold and she climbed out shivering. She took a few sleeping pills and curled up on her bed, she wore some soft sweatpants and a tee shirt that Booth had left at her place once. It smelled like him and she curled into a ball and cried until the pills kicked in and she drifted off to a thankfully dreamless sleep.

She didn't cry that day, though, she couldn't seem to find the emotion for it. She just felt empty, as though she had died and not Booth. For most of the day she could barely seem to form a single coherent thought so she stopped thinking at all, something else she had never thought possible.

As the sun began to go down she heard knocking at her door, "Bren, sweetie, please come let me in. I'm worried, I've tried calling you so many times today but your phone's off. Brennan, your phone's never off." She realized that Angela had a key and could easily let herself in, she didn't really care, she just couldn't find the strength to drag herself out of bed. She heard the key turn in the lock, Angela's quiet footsteps seemed to echo in the silent apartment. When she heard Angela pause in the doorway to her bedroom, she rolled over to face her, to spare Angela the worry that she might be catatonic or something. "Oh, sweetie," her friend breathed, immediately sitting down next to her, wrapping her into a hug. "Have you been laying here all day?" Brennan nodded, and Angela hugged her tighter before getting up and coming back a few minutes later with a bowl of soup, which Brennan ate. She wasn't hungry, but Angela had been crying since she'd arrived and Temperance didn't want to upset her friend further. After eating, Brennan finally got up to use the bathroom and brush her teeth, then she sat on the bed and allowed Angela to brush her hair. She hated to admit it, but it was nice to have company and this time she didn't refuse when Angela offered to stay over.

The next morning, despite Angela's protests, she went to work. She couldn't take another day of meaninglessness. For the first time ever, working didn't seem to help her focus. She went through the motions but never really connected with any of the remains the way she normally did. She knew that everyone was worried about her, but she played "fine" at work. She only allowed the overwhelming emptiness to crush her into a small fragile ball, laying on her bed, and she wanted nothing more than to be able to cry, to have a cathartic release of tears so that she might be able to move on, but the tears refused to come. She spent her nights staring dry eyed at the ceiling, not wanting to fall asleep because she knew what dream she would have. It was like that for five days before she broke.

It happened when she was working in Limbo. The radio was on in the background. She didn't usually need music to concentrate but ever since she spent the day in bed she couldn't stand silence of any length, it was too ominous. It was while she was poring over the bones of Jane Doe 316 that it came on. She froze as she heard the first few upbeat notes, and as the lyrics began she could feel bile rise in her throat.

_"I come home in the morning light, my mother says when you gonna live your life right..."_

She ran out of the room, towards the bathroom and she knocked past Angela who was heading down the hallway with a completed sketch of Jane Doe 316.

"Sweetie?" Angela said, confused, then she heard the music seeping softly down the hall, "Oh no."

Angela ran after her friend, and she heard her retching in the bathroom. In her rush Brennan had left the door unlocked and Angela was suddenly kneeling next to her, holding her hair, rubbing soothing circles on her back. When the nausea passed Temperance couldn't believe that a song had caused her to become physically sick. She realized then that she was crying.

"What's happening to me Ange?" She asked through a sob.

"You're grieving sweetie, it's okay, it's good actually, not to keep it all inside." Angela answered, pulling her into a hug.

"I feel like I'm dying, Ange. I know it's not possible but it feels like there's a part of my chest missing and I don't know how to fix it..." Angela hugged her tighter, softly stroking her best friend's hair as she sobbed, "Let it out sweetie, let it out." Temperance cried for almost a full fifteen minutes before allowing Angela to drive her home for the rest of the day, she was beyond caring about what anyone else would think about her breakdown. She took another day off the following day, Cam was completely understanding when she called out and had even sounded relieved enough not to care that Angela wouldn't be in either. Brennan spent the day crying on the couch while eating fattening foods with Angela, who let her cry on her shoulder again and periodically offered her tissues and words of comfort. Wallowing was Angela's word for it. Temperance thought that "breaking" described it better.

The day after that she felt more composed than she had in weeks. The next four days were the same. She was doing better, sleeping more than an hour at a time, eating without Ange having to remind her. She could feel herself becoming stronger again, aside from some random bouts of tears brought on by the smallest things. A funny pair of socks she passed at the store. Smelling apple pie baking in the supermarket. "Hot Blooded" playing on the radio as she drove to work one morning. None of these was as drastic as the bout of sobbing the day at the lab, but she wondered if these random tears would ever disappear completely, or if she'd spend her entire life having her eyes water every time she heard a male voice say "bones." That one had to be the most embarrassing, but no matter how hard she tried she couldn't help the sadness she felt when no one would ever use that stupid nickname she had so hated again.

Then it was Booth's funeral. She didn't want to go. She couldn't. His funeral would make it real, that he was really never coming back. She would never again look into his warm brown eyes. She would never again be enveloped into one of his comforting "guy hugs." She would never hear his laugh, or argue with him, or anything because there was no more Booth. Her chest felt tight every time she thought about it. In the end, tough, she went because Angela asked her to and Angela had helped her so much in the past two weeks that she couldn't say no.

Suddenly she was at the funeral. And there was chaos. A fight. And Booth was right there, standing in front of her. And she did the first thing she could think of. She punched him. Her anger filled her as fully as the emptiness had. She marched away because if she stayed another minute she would have began sobbing, again, and she wasn't willing to do that in front of anyone, especially him. He would never see how deeply he had hurt her.

"What was that for?" Booth asked, clutching his jaw. He looked up to see Brennan running away, and Angela was leaning over him.

"You had better explain what is going on right now or I might punch you myself," Angela said as he staggered to his feet.

"Why?" He asked, genuinely confused.

"What do you mean why?" Angela's voice was rising uncharacteristically quickly, "You are supposed to be dead. I mean I'm really glad you're not, but do you have any idea what you put her through?"

"What? No. Bones knew that I wasn't dead," he paused as he looked at Angela's disbelieving expression, "she didn't know? I gave a list to the FBI of people to inform. Sweets was supposed to contact everyone on the list." He paused again, his expression darkening, "No one told her? I need to go see her."

"Wait," Angela said, "let her come to you. She's hurt Booth, and angry at you. She's been living in hell the past two weeks, and she might not let onto it, she'll pretend it didn't affect her, but it did. She spent the entire day in bed after that night. Bren, my best friend with the work ethic of a robot, spent the entire day in bed. Last week Cyndi Lauper came on the radio and it made her literally sick and she spent the rest of the day and the entire next day crying on my shoulder. So remember that when she's yelling at you later. She's going to be really, really mad Booth, because it's her way of hiding her pain, and she's been in agony."

Booth nodded numbly, "I'll keep that in mind, Ange, thanks."

Angela finally smiled at him and threw her arms around his neck, "I'm glad you're alive, and I know Bren is too, more than she'll ever tell you. Now," she said stepping back, "you go to your apartment and wait for her to be ready to talk. I'm going to go have a few choice words with a certain twelve year old psychologist."

Dr. Sweets had left the funeral as quickly as Dr. Brennan had, afraid of what Agent Booth would do when he found out that Sweets hadn't informed his partner that his death was a fake. He jumped when the door to his office flew open, but it wasn't Agent Booth. It was Angela, and her face was full of anger. Sweets hadn't thought the effusive artist was even capable of such rage, but apparently he was wrong.

"What is wrong with you?" She demanded, crossing the room to stand menacingly in front of him.

"Angela, what do you mean?" He feigned curiosity.

"Shut it Sweets. Why did you not tell Brennan that Booth wasn't dead?"

"I believed that she would be able to compartmentalize his death, I was only supposed to inform as few people as possible."

"You thought she would what?"

"Compartmentalize, like she prides herself on. As I saw she was able to process his death and continue on with her normal life."

Tears began to well in Angela's eyes and her voice was unsteady, "You have no idea what you did to her. You are a child who thinks he is smarter than he is, and it ended up hurting my best friend. You're clueless, you have no idea what Temperance Brennan is really like. She isn't cold and calculating. She pretends to be. Me and Booth are two of the only people that she lets in, sometimes the squints see the real her, too, but very rarely. She cares about Booth more than you know. No," she said forcefully as Sweets began to interrupt, "You didn't have to watch her lay listlessly in bed for a full day afterward. You didn't have her sobbing on her shoulder because the radio reminded her of karaoke that night. You didn't hear her begging me to explain why she felt like there was a hole in her gut that none of her logic could explain away. So please do not try to tell me that my best friend deserved to suffer for two weeks just because she keeps her feelings private and separate from her work." Angela took a deep breath once her voice had reached such a high pitch it had began to crack. She spoke again, this time with cold precision, "And I'm not even going to bother to try to explain how much this will hurt Booth, because she's going to blame him. I don't know where you get off playing god, but if you ever do anything like this to my friends again I promise that I will turn you into a eunuch. You know what that is, right Sweets?" She growled menacingly before she stormed out, slamming the door, leaving a shell-shocked Sweets gaping after her.


	2. Chapter 2

**This chapter's a bit shorter than the last one, theoretically I could've made it longer but I sort of like where it ends. The next chapter will probably be the last for this story (and it will be significantly fluffier than the first two), hopefully I'll be able to update this weekend. I apologize in advance if I can't, I have 3 papers and a project due next week, but I'm going to try! The fact that people are actually reading this and signing up for story alerts makes me beyond excited, I (internally) do a happy dance every time I get a new e-mail that someone's signed up for alerts. I hope everyone likes this chapter! Comments are always welcome =)**

After receiving multiple rounds of hugs from the squint squad, Booth returned to his apartment. As Angela had instructed, he waited for his partner to decide to come talk to him. He paced his apartment for a while and eventually ended up in front of the TV, though he wasn't actually paying attention.

Temperance Brennan fought rush hour traffic as she drove to Booth's place. She would have left earlier but it had taken all afternoon to regain her composure after the funeral. She had driven straight to her apartment after hitting Booth and as soon as she had walked through the door, she had collapsed to the ground in a sobbing heap. She wasn't completely sure why. Booth was alive. She should have been relieved, happy. Instead, she felt as hurt as she had when he was "dead" it was just a different kind of hurt. Instead of hopeless and empty, she felt angry and betrayed. She had spent two weeks mourning that man and he had been alive the entire time. And he hadn't told her. Now she was on her way to his apartment to demand answers. She strengthened her resolve as she got closer, she was angry and she used that anger to bury her hurt. The hurt she would deal with later when she was alone again.

She stomped up to his apartment and pounded on the door. When he answered the door she pushed past him. She began her inquisition without preamble, "Why didn't you tell me?"

He looked at her closely, her eyes were rimmed in red and despite her attempt to hide it by wearing extra make-up, it was obvious that she'd been crying, "You were on the list that I gave to the FBI, Sweets was supposed to notify everyone on it." He stepped towards her with his arms outstretched, wanting to apologize, but she backed away from him.

"That's not what I asked. I want to know why you, my partner, did not tell me that you were still alive. Why didn't you make sure I knew?" She worked at keeping her voice under control but her voice kept creeping towards hysterical.

"I didn't think to, Bones. I trusted the FBI to inform everyone on my list." His voice was apologetic, but he was becoming slightly annoyed despite Angela's warning that this would happen.

"You didn't think to?" She yelled before taking a deep shaking breath, "You let me think that you were dead for two weeks because you didn't think to check that I knew?" She could feel the ache of betrayal sitting heavy in her stomach and she fought hard to maintain her crumbling composure, she realized that she was being slightly unreasonable but she didn't care.

"What should I have done, sent you a printed notification that I was alive? I was stuck at an FBI safe house with no access to the outside world except for a crummy TV that only got six channels and a couple visits per day from other agents bringing me food."

"Well excuse me, I had no idea you were put through such suffering," she said scathingly.

Now, thoroughly irritated, he spat out, "I don't even know why you're so angry at me. You don't seem particularly happy that I'm alive. I'm sure that you just 'compartmentalized' and continued on with your life." He instantly regretted his words as he remembered what Angela had told him. He watched the rage drain out of Brennan's face, leaving her staring at him her eyes huge in her pale face.

"Do you really think I'm that unfeeling?" Now that her anger was gone, her voice was barely an anguished whisper.

He sighed, "Of course not, I'm sorry Bones I didn't mean to say that." He tried to approach her again but she took another step back, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I just... I thought that we were friends Booth," she was trying desperately hard not to cry.

As Booth watched his partner hold back tears, he saw not just the strong woman he knew, but also the remnants of the fragile young girl who had been abandoned by everyone she had ever cared about. And despite all of his promises to the contrary, he had unwittingly become one of them, "Bones... Temperance, I didn't mean to cause you any pain, I swear. I would never abandon you on purpose, okay?" He moved towards her one more time and wrapped his arms around her trembling form, ignoring the fact that she shied away from his touch, "I am so sorry that you had to go through this."

As soon as his arms were around her she lost what little composure she had left and leaned into him, beginning to sob, "I thought you were gone Booth. I missed you so much that it scared me. It felt like there was a hole in my stomach and it wouldn't go away." She pressed her face into his chest and he could feel her hot tears sinking into his t-shirt.

His heart broke for her and he tried to imagine how he would have felt if their situations had been reversed, the thought made him clutch her even tighter. He realized that she seemed thinner than she had a couple weeks earlier, that she probably hadn't been eating enough, because of him. He couldn't think of anything else to say, so he continued a whispered litany of, "I'm sorry Bones, I'm so, so sorry."

They stood like that for a long time until she finally took a step back, still sniffling. Her face and eyes were red and puffy from crying, "I'm sorry Booth, I shouldn't be bothering you, I'm sure you have a lot of work to be catching up on at the Bureau." She wiped at her eyes, and he could practically see her putting her emotional walls back up.

"It's fine, Bones. I'm glad that you decided to talk to me," he said, resigned. He had really hoped that she was having some sort of emotional break-through.

"Booth?" Her voice was soft, and she almost sounded nervous.

"Yeah?" He responded curiously.

"I think..." she trailed off, she really wanted to tell him how she felt but she was suddenly afraid to; she was so bad with emotions, "I think that I might be in love with you."

**I hope that everyone reading this loves cliff-hanger endings as much as I do!**


	3. Chapter 3

**So this is definitely the last chapter for this particular piece. I'm hoping to start on my next one sometime during my vacation week next week! I want to say thanks times a million to everyone who has read this, commented, or added it as an alert or a favorite, because I'm so thrilled that there are people enjoying my writing! I would send you all homemade cookies if I could! Stolen from the dining hall counts as homemade, right? Seriously, though, your comments/alert notifications make my day. I really hope you enjoy this chapter!**

_I think that I might be in love with you_. Her words seemed to echo in his silent apartment. For once in his life, Seeley Booth was at a loss for words.

"You, you think you're in love... with me?" He finally managed to say, "I thought you don't believe in love?"

"I know, I know," she shook her head slightly, "I just can't think of any other explanation for my feelings, and after spending years listening to you and Angela prattle on about love I've decided that those are the only symptoms that seem to fit."

"Symptoms?" He repeated incredulously, though he realized that her phrasing didn't really surprise him all that much.

"Yes," she switched quickly from emotional to rational. She was so much more comfortable with rational, "obviously I'm physically attracted to you, but I've been physically attracted to many men. There's just something different about you. There's never been another man that can make my day seem better just from walking into my office. There's never been anyone else whose nearness has made my heart palpitate. And when I thought you were dead..." she could feel tears threatening to choke her again. She waved her hand impatiently at him when he tried to speak. She wanted to finish, needed to. She took a deep breath before continuing, "When I thought you were dead it felt as though a piece of me had died too. It was completely irrational and I was upset at the smallest things." She didn't want to tell him about what had happened in Limbo, that was too much, so she opted for something smaller, "I was at the grocery store a few nights ago and they were baking apple pies. It reminded me so much of you that I just left my cart where it was and walked out." A single tear slid down her cheek, "So, yes, according to the evidence I've compiled I am fairly certain that I am in love with you."

Now he was almost crying. He pulled her back into another tight embrace and kissed that lone tear off her cheek, "I love you too," he whispered in her ear.

She looked at him, surprised, "You do?" Despite the fact that she had finally bared her own feelings, she hadn't been completely sure of his, however much she had hoped.

"Of course I do, Bones," he said confidently.

"But what about the line?" She needed to make she that he really meant what he was saying. She didn't know if she could handle losing him twice in the same number of weeks.

He sighed, of course his own words were coming back to bite him. He said, "Forget about the line. That was something that I said more for my own benefit than for yours. I was trying to talk myself out of telling you how I felt because I was afraid that if I did you would run. The last thing that I want is to scare you off. I'd rather spend the rest of my life with you as my partner than lose you."

She looked at him intently, "I'm not running now. In fact," she continued earnestly, "you're the only person who has ever really made me want to stay."

He stared at her, looking as though he half-believed this was some wonderful dream that could dissipate at any moment. So, she did the one thing she could to convince him that it was real. She kissed him.

He responded to the kiss immediately, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them. He marveled at how their lips moved perfectly together despite the frenzied nature of their kiss. Her fingers tightened in his hair and he let out a moan before moving his lips to her neck while they panted, trying to regain their breath.

"Booth?" She whispered, "I'm really glad that you picked me up at the airport. I never did thank you for that."

He laughed and brought his lips back to hers, remembering his last-ditch attempt to convince her to work with him. Having her detained by airport security until he "rescued" her, "I'm just glad that you agreed to let me drive you home, I knew that there was only a fifty percent chance of that stunt working."

"I wouldn't have if you hadn't convinced Angela to leave." Her protest lacked the indignation she was trying for. Booth's lips were doing something very distracting to her neck.

"I didn't have to convince Angela to do anything. She's been vying for us to get together since day one. She was thrilled when I showed up." He replied as Brennan decided that she was through with conversation and effectively silenced him with another long kiss.

They ended up tangled up on his couch, talking quietly while waiting for the takeout they had eventually decided to order after realizing that neither of them had eaten since breakfast.

They sat talking until long after they had finished their food. Around midnight she sat up, "It's getting late, maybe I should go." She looked at him, leaving the choice for him to make.

"You don't have to drive home this late. I'll even make you breakfast in the morning if you want to stay," he flashed a grin at her, and she didn't hesitate for a second before she said, "Okay."

He leaned over and kissed her, unlike their kisses earlier it was tender, and she could feel the warmth of it settle somewhere below her stomach before spreading through her limbs, making her forget her fatigue. "You've told me many times that there's a difference between having sex and making love. I'd like you to show me," she whispered against his lips.

He pulled back and looked at her for a moment, his eyes dark and heavy-lidded, "I can do that." He kissed her again and without breaking that kiss, they somehow managed to make it to his bedroom.

The next morning the sun rose as the partners laid curled contentedly in each other's arms. It had been a long night, both emotionally and physically.

The clock read six. In fifteen minutes Temperance Brennan would wake up and panic, stating that if she didn't leave for her apartment immediately she would be late for work.

In twenty minutes, she would be completely distracted by Seeley Booth, eventually forgetting about work completely.

In forty-five minutes Booth would insist on making her breakfast. She would agree because she knew she'd be late either way plus she was starving.

In an hour and twenty-five minutes she would finally make it back to her apartment to shower and get dressed.

In two hours she would finally show up to work, well over an hour late. Cam would pretend not to notice, knowing how hard the past two weeks had been; assuming she and Booth had probably fought after the scene at his funeral.

In two hours and five minutes Angela would let out a shrill squeal after learning exactly why her best friend had been running so late.

In three hours there would be an explosion, and once again Temperance Brennan would be betrayed by someone she trusted.

But for now the partners continued to sleep peacefully wrapped in an embrace they had both so wanted for such a long time.

**We all know what happens next, which is why I stopped here. I absolutely adore Zack, so thinking about what happens with him just makes me sad =/. Once again, I hope everyone likes this chapter and I will hopefully be starting my new piece within the next week!**


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